Thursday, September 7, 2017
Today I am grateful for a heavy heart. Seems like a weird thing to be thankful for, but if my heart was not heavy today, then I would be made of stone, because late yesterday I learned that a dear friend had died.
I have been trying to reach her by text and phone and never got through except to leave messages and she never got back to me. Now I know why. She died yesterday at 7:45 a.m. and I am comforted to learn that her only survivor, her sister was with her.
We met at Weight Watchers. Then she moved almost an hour away and while she continued to go to a meeting near her, sometimes she would still come to our meeting where the support and fun is palpable. After the meeting she and I would go to breakfast. Waffles and bacon. I know. Don’t judge. I’m not sorry for one bite! She liked blueberries on hers. We’d talk and talk and laugh and then go our separate ways again for weeks or even a month at a time, then pick up right where we left off the next time we saw each other.
I don’t want to get into her personal life because she’d say, “You couldn’t resist, could you!? You bitch!” Then she’d laugh and her face would twinkle with dimples, like an elf the day after Christmas. But I will confess that I went to her Facebook page and pulled up a picture. I’m not using my favorite one of her with her idol, Richard Dean Anderson, but found one that is perfect because it is with her precious dog, Clay, whom she loved like a child. Clay was given to a wonderful family, months ago and he is very happy. Having babysat him when she was away, I’m glad to know he’s okay.
When I knew she was getting sicker and could no longer drive, I asked to come see her. She gave me her new address and I used the GPS to find her, never knowing that she had been calling my home number telling me not to come because she wasn’t up for company. I never got the calls. Then I knocked on her door. Surprise! We talked about the journey she was taking, how she wanted to have as much control over her transition as possible. I took her to lunch and to pick up prescriptions. It was the last time I saw her, laughing, funny, pissed off. . .very real! So her.
I tried to go back other times but she always said not to come. . .she couldn’t breathe. . .she was too loopy from the meds. . .I wanted to respect her wishes, but now I wish I hadn’t listened. I have a very heavy heart. And that’s okay.